


Emptiness Inside

by Squaresas



Category: Disco Elysium (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Physical Abuse, might have missed something the point is its pretty violent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squaresas/pseuds/Squaresas
Summary: Harry's first attempt at leaving everything behind and consequences of his actions.
Relationships: Harry Du Bois/Jean Vicquemare
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	Emptiness Inside

Heavy rain was pounding on windows, making Jean’s attempts to fall asleep even harder, as if eternal insomnia wasn’t enough. Slowly standing up from uncomfortable bed, he walked to the kitchen, turning on cheap plastic kettle. Frowning, he listened as water bubbled around. Despite the fact that it was middle of spring outside, his room was unbearably cold, forcing to wear old, but moderately warm black colored sportswear at all times. Well, at least when the guy who gifted it to him wasn’t around. No need to give him satisfaction of knowing that Jean actually liked it.  
A memory of Harrier, grinning as he extended hands with a box in bright wrapping paper towards flustered partner flashed in front of him as if it was just yesterday. But that birthday party happened several years ago, when brokenhearted detective still had remnants of dignity left in him and Jean actually believed that his colleague and dear friend will get through these hard times. Now he just wished he never knew the man.  
Drumming fingers impatiently on kitchen counter Jean stared at the kettle, as if trying to make it boil faster. Silence made him think too much. Contemplating things like the fucked up case aptly dubbed ‘Two drunks’, or how it affected everyone in the precinct. Especially the most sensitive ones. It still worried him and might have actually been the cause of insomnia, come to think of it. Goddamnit.  
Kettle’s loud click finally dragged him out of the mind pit. Pouring hot water and feeling slightly better when tea aroma filled the air, Jean reached out to take the cup, freezing midway. Among the sound of falling water there was something else. Walking up to the door, he confirmed that someone was banging on it. Grinding his teeth, Jean contemplated if he really wants to have this night become even worse than it already is, because only one man could have been at his doorstep at three in the morning. He couldn’t have heard him walking up through the rain noise, so there’s still option to ignore him and drink the tea while reading some pseudo-intelligent book.  
Silently cursing everything on this plane of existence Jean opened the door.  
\- Hey.  
\- Hey yourself, shitkid, - he grumbled, looking over wavering man, hidden in shadows of dark corridor. Water was dripping on the shabby linoleum beneath him, a trail following from the entrance, - wait here, I’m not letting you in like this.  
Nodding, Harrier stayed in the same spot, grabbing offered towel and sloppily drying himself off. Jean watched as the man walked inside under a weak illumination of lamplight by the couch, kicking gaudy shoes off. Now it was easier to see disheveled clothes, sad looking wet hair, red eyes and obvious signs that his partner was drunk as usual.  
\- You know the drill, go to the couch and don’t bother me. Or maybe do, I don’t feel like sleeping anyway, - sighing he walked back to the kitchen still hoping at the very least to drink that tea.  
\- Jean, I’m so lonely – came up barely audible voice behind him.  
\- Yeah, me too, do you see me complaining? – leaning onto a counter, he sipped hot drink watching as his partner slowly walks up to the cough, falling on it with his whole body.  
After several minutes of silence, Jean set the cup aside, walking up to Harry and sitting beside on a bit of a free space, only to be immediately pulled into embrace. Not resisting, he lied down on warm chest, listening to frantic heartbeat. That probably wasn’t a good thing, Harry really needed to see a doctor or his idea of slow suicide might actually work.  
\- Jean, why is this world so fucked up? Will it ever get better? – slurred the man somewhere above him.  
\- Nope. It might for me, if I escape your self-destructive ass, - snuggling more comfortably under heavy arms, he felt a bit bad about his attitude, having walking furnace in his place today was actually a good thing.  
\- No, don’t leave me! – sobbing, Harry suddenly strengthen a grip on him, as if trying to melt them into a single being.  
\- F-fine, I won’t, just don’t choke me here!  
Already regretting his indulgence, Jean breathed out, rising a bit to rest on his elbows. Looking at dark eyes, glistening with tears, he absentmindedly moved wet strands from man’s forehead. Heavy alcohol scent hit his senses, something he sadly got used to.  
Large hand moved to cup Jean’s face, trying to bring him closer, but officer moved away from it.  
\- No. You’re not getting anything today.  
\- Why? Because you hate me? – more tears fell down into mutton chops, almost making Jean feel bad for this.  
\- I will never hate you, you idiot. But… - he sighed, shaking his head , -what is even the point of talking to you, you won’t even remember any of it later…  
\- Why I would I forget you? – mumbled Harry, suddenly swiftly sitting up, causing his partner to end up in a pretty compromising pose, - I love you, I’ll never…  
Irritated, Jean jumped off the couch, towering over confused man, fury in tired eyes.  
\- No, you don’t, you sad fuck. You love your ex and I really don’t feel like being a stand-in for her, so fuck off with your cheap lies to someone more gullible.  
Like a wave, anger that suddenly hit him washed away. Sighing, he sat back, not facing the other man. Chilly air settled back on him, causing officer to shudder and mourn lack of human contact just a bit.  
\- So, we are… not dating anymore? – surprisingly calmly asked Harry.  
Dating. Jean chuckled silently. What a dumb word. Kinda cute though.  
\- No. I don’t know. I need a break from this, - putting head in his hands, trying to ignore pounding headache, - I’m giving a field day to my psychiatrist as it is, and this… whatever we’re having… not helping. At all. We can’t go on like this.  
\- Weren’t you the one who started ‘this’? – emphasizing the word, detective leaning onto his back, quickly backing away to avoid elbow jab.  
\- Well forgive me for not knowing that fucking you would give me clinical depression, Harry. I can’t ignore your drunk rants about grandiose plans to get her back or which drug you will try to overdose on today. And I think it took me long enough to finally say it, - he turned to the other man, hoping his face expression is flat enough, - either get better, or get away from me and live your pathetic life on your own.  
It was quiet for a while. Sniffling, but seemingly not crying, at least, Harry stood up.  
\- Hey, where are you going? – sudden surge of panic hit Jean.  
\- Getting away, - looking at him, he grinned, shrugging, - I can’t keep bothering you for a whole night, you know… Not sure if I’m even allowed to be here anymore…  
\- No no no, - grabbing calloused hand, Jean tugged him, heavier man easily falling back onto a couch with confused look on his face, - you think I will let you wander around at night in this state? I’m surprised you even got here without any shithead robbing your drunk ass. Sleep it off, I’ll drive you back home in the morning.  
\- Nothing will change in the morning, - gloomily muttered Harrier, getting his hand back as if Jean’s touch was burning him.  
\- Well, we’re both will be able to have an actual talk so just… stay here and don’t bitch about it, alright?  
After a moment of hesitation, he stood up, walking away to the bed. At the very least this exchange left him without any energy, so he didn’t have a problem falling asleep to a dreamless void.

* * *

  
Putting two plates with simple omelette, Jean plopped onto a seat in front of moody detective. Neither of them got enough sleep, but Harry had hangover on top of it, trying to hide from the morning light. Probably hoping to get to his speed stash in the station as quickly as possible.  
\- So - munching bland substance, Jean pointed a fork at his partner, - you remember where we left off, correct?  
Frowning, detective concentrated on something for a moment, face darkening immediately.  
\- Oh. Right. The part where you dumped me.  
\- No, the part where I told how not to get dumped for real, you passive-aggressive ass.  
\- But you did not - Harry bowed his head, deep in thoughts, - just saying ‘get better’ is not really a solid advice, is it?  
\- You think you’re so smart? Alright, what is cornerstone of your depressing existence, shitkid?  
\- Do… - quickly falling silent, he looked away.  
\- There you go. Find a way to get that thorn out of your head, - finishing excuse of a breakfast, Jean leaned back into the chair, - and before you decide to start new relationships – I don’t think that worked out for you so far, so, think a bit harder.  
\- Jean, I tried to do that for years, - he sighed, putting cheap fork aside, - I think… there’s something wrong with me, I just see her in everything…  
\- Not to sound like an asshole, but you’re not getting anywhere as long as you spend nights crying about a break up. The world won’t be waiting for you to move on, if you ever plan on doing that. Just… I don’t know, get those memories away somehow.  
Detective chuckled mirthlessly, ‘the expression’ flashing for a second.  
\- You suck at this.  
\- No shit, why do you think I pay to get my psyche treated? And for drugs too, and… - he sighed, hanging his head, - fuck me, shitkid, you’re one expensive partner to have.

After several moments of silence Jean looked up, noticing how tired puffy eyes suddenly lit up, reminding Jean about that look he always saw on Harry whenever the man had a breakthrough at the case.  
\- You uh, came up with something there?  
\- I… Yeah, - grinning, detective stood up, slightly wobbling on his feet, - I think I got it!  
\- Great. Now put that thought aside until later because we need to go to work, and by the way, if you plan to bail and run off to the bar – I’m not covering you.  
\- Nah, don’t worry, I’m going, - unexpectedly cheery, Harrier smiled at him, then looked himself over– Might need a change of clothes though…

* * *

  
After quick visit to Harrier’s place, they drove to the old silk mill, unusually bright sun basking everything around in golden light. Despite the fact that both men barely had any sleep and Harry got hangover on top of that, they had light stride, feeling way better than before. Jean – because he was happy to see that his friend is happy. The walk reminded him about older times when they arrived at work together pretty much every day, talking about nothing and everything on the way inside.  
As for why Harry was happy, well, Jean was never able to fully read the man if he wasn’t outright crying about something on his shoulder. Whatever it was, it made his partner considerably less miserable so satellite-officer was a-okay with this. As long as Harry spends even one day in high spirits.  
The evening came faster than he anticipated. Not without struggle to stay focused, Harry was surprisingly helpful, filling documents, going on patrol, in short – acting like a proper policeman. As proper as a craving drug addict can be, at least. Jean fully expected him to disappear at the end of the day, to spend the night in whatever shithole he visits to get high, this all had to be an act for the day to not get thrown out off the force.  
However, Harry was waiting for him at the entrance, throwing out a barely started cigarette the moment he spotted his partner.  
\- Vic, hey! Want to grab something to eat? Pretty sure I forgot to get anything with all this work during the day, so… - he laughed awkwardly, seemingly oblivious to Jean’s shocked face expression.  
\- Uh… I had some leftovers at home, I think…  
\- Well I can’t just go to your home, and besides, your cooking is not the best. No offense.  
Jean chuckled, panic slowly retreating as nostalgic feeling settled in its place.  
\- None taken, but you’d better not talk shit about anything I do ever again. Lead the way, Harry.

* * *

  
The night came and went. Jean opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling, basked in the morning sunlight. Forcing his brain to work a bit, he remembered that its Friday.  
Yesterday evening was one of the best he had in a while. A meal with simple friendly conversation accompanying it. He didn’t had that in a long, long while. With other officers maybe, sure, but none of them saw Jean like his partner did, none of them made him feel that teenager-like adoration at even most dumb things the other man said. It relaxed Jean enough to drop the heavy walls around him and smile, forgetting about dark world outside of dumpy café’s broad windows.  
But not enough to forget last years full of misery and worry. If Harrier constructed a plan to win him back with the goody two shoes cop act then he had to try harder and not expect results after just one day when they broke up. Not that it would work, anyway. Totally would not. Not that, or him walking Jean to his house, making it really hard not to drag him inside and opting for farewells instead.  
He worried that if Harry does all of this again today, he might not be as restrained anymore.

* * *

  
Sure enough, still ruffled-looking but seemingly sober his partner arrived right at the time, causing everyone in precinct turn their heads in disbelief as he beelined straight for Jean’s desk, asking merrily about today’s agenda.  
By middle of the day, while freezing in the wind and watching as Harry consumes horrible-looking kebabs, satellite-officer's well spirited mood was finally hit by a sting of suspicion.  
The man tended to have episodes of especially miserable demeanor, when he barely left the house, refusing to talk to anyone. Through the experience that Jean wished he never had, he learned that usually the thing that comes after this is him finding Harry either half-dead in his flat, overdosed on a mix of everything that was available on hand, or at Jean’s own doorstep, clutching the gun and begging to take it so he wouldn’t blow his brains out. He didn’t even want to try and remember the rest, just thinking that his friend can snap anytime and he might not be around made that void in the chest expand a bit more.  
So Jean took it upon himself to force his way through Harry’s barrier of indifference and, if not trying to get him back on relatively regular track, at least to keep him company while this horrible desire for self-destruction passes. Sadly, with this responsibility he got stains of it on himself, starting to doubt if he won’t decide to join Harrier’s journey into nothingness at some point.  
But even despite psychiatrist’s warnings about harmful influence that was radiated on him every day in bulk, Jean refused to let go, spending nights in cold, sad apartments, clinging shuddering figure, listening to sorrowful lamentation about someone he never met but hated with his whole being for making his lover suffer like this.  
Because if he lets go and hears one morning that Harrier is dead, he won’t be able to live with the knowledge that he chose not to prevent it.  
However, Jean had no idea what to do when his partner is unusually cheerful and competent. It wasn’t fake enough like ‘I decided randomly to not drink today and announce it to everyone, only to buy out whole Frittte the very next day’ type of attitude. Right now it almost seemed like he wasn’t doing it for himself, but to please people around. Or, at the very least, please Jean, which was working since he caught up on it only now and considering his occupation, it was pretty embarrassing to be blinded by childish feelings like this. Taking a deep breath, he waited a bit for Harry to finish his meal, before asking:  
\- You want to say anything to me? We’re still friends, you know. I am, well, almost always here to listen.  
\- What do you mean? - Harry leaned to the side, having such innocent look in his eyes that Jean almost felt physically how quickly his defenses are falling over.  
\- I… I mean that this - he waved both hands in around them in exasperation, - is not… normal, alright? I fucking know you’re up to something with this charade so just spit it out. Are you planning to, I don’t know, make me feel all safe before you off yourself? Is this what’s happening?  
Harry blinked, visibly losing confidence and looked away with worried laughter.  
\- What? Really? You decided that just because i didn’t drink, i… wanted to commit suicide? That’s a bit of a bizarre logic there, buddy.  
\- Don’t you ‘buddy’ me, you think I can’t see through all this shit?  
\- It’s… - Harry sighed, resigned, face darkening, - it’s not that, Vic. I don’t want to die and I didn’t plan to. Honestly.  
Getting more air in his lungs, as if about to continue talking, Harry suddenly stopped, gazing somewhere past him, deep in thoughts. Using this moment, Jean looked him over, paying extra attention to the eyes. He wasn’t as good of a lie detector as his partner was, but he had a feeling that the man wasn’t lying to him. There was something he kept silent about though.  
\- Well, what did you plan then?  
\- Nothing! Seriously, is it so hard for you to believe that I’m just trying to get healthy and not be an asshole to everyone?  
\- With a timing like this? – Jean squinted, leaning in, - naaah. Frankly, you’re insulting my intelligence right now, especially after working together for so long.  
\- Hey, I’m not trying to insult anyone! – lifting hands in defeat, Harry seemed geniunly upset at this insinuation.  
\- Then what the fuck is it? Or will I have to stay at your place again to keep your dumb ass away from sharp objects?  
Deep husky laughter sent shivers through Jean. Feeling how blush creeps up his face he turned away, supressing desire to make out with the guy right here and now.  
\- Oh, I certainly would not mind that, - head perched on a fist, he leaned to the side, winking slyly, - maybe you should. You know, just in case…  
Several seconds passed as Jean stared incrediously at him, and now it was moody’s detective turn to cackle.  
\- Oh, you horny pig, that’s what is happening. Alright, - abruptly standing up, he snuggled into the police coat, - break is over, back to work.  
\- Jean, I’m serious.  
Looking down on Harry, he huffed, folding hands. Mostly to save from the cold, but also to look a bit more imposing and annoyed.  
\- Yeah, me too. If you’re going to exploit my care for you like this, then getting back together in foreseeable future is the last thing you can count on.  
\- No! I just want us to spend a bit of time as friends. Maybe, uh… - he looked away, uncomfortable with something, - well, maybe have a serious talk, or something, while that’s happening...  
Jean frowned, observing how sincere tired, bloated face seems to him.  
On one hand, he really wanted to agree. There was a whole lot he had to say and one conversation alone wouldn’t cover it, but it might have been a nice beginning. Not to mention that opportunity to hang out with his partner was just way too tempting, with the promise of having something good in his life for once.  
On the other, he goddamn knew how their ‘talk’ would end even without Harry’s advances, which would most likely happen anyway because it felt like he was barely able to control the part that was responsible for sexual mood. That colliding with Jean’s own bottled up lust would completely ruin his stance on not giving in to overt compassion due to the smallest glance of man’s sobriety and proper behavior, which would make him feel like shit when after succeeding in his task, Harry would go back to his old ways knowing that he can get away with it.  
\- Even if I was willing to do that – which, no, shitkid, don’t even count on it, - I would not be able to. Got stuff to do, plus insomnia was a bitch today so I need some sleep. Doubt I’ll get a lot with you around, so…  
Mix of pain and worry in Harry’s eyes burned through him.  
\- You sure? No possibility of that at all?  
\- What, I need to repeat everything, elaborate in detail maybe?  
Something in him turned, flowing with sickening feeling. Jean sighed.  
\- I’m sorry. Maybe next week.  
Turning away and pretending to busy himself with case files on the ledger, he heard barely audible whisper.  
\- Yeah. Maybe.  
Trying to ignore tightening in his chest, he gazes at the grey sky, waiting for Harry to follow him back to the streets.

* * *

  
It was hard not to run after him after saying goodbyes in front of the precinct. Despite soured mood, double-yefreitor didn’t seem angry or annoyed at Jean. Quite the opposite, he had a sad smile, even apologizing for his pushy behavior. Grumbling in reply that it was not pushy at all, he allowed a bit of an intimacy by hugging Harry, who clearly didn’t expect that and had a moment before circling hands around him in return. Last thing Jean wanted was to get out of that moment and let go of the warm body.  
But he did, not moving anywhere until he saw how large figure disappeared into the evening mist, covering city like a blanket.  
Jean didn't spend rest of the day wondering about what-ifs and worrying that he just fucked up. Nor did he had a restless sleep, and he certainly wasn’t trying to fill his weekends with extra work or completely unintentional walks around the house where Harry’s flat was, squinting at the windows. Not that there was a lot of point in that, they weren’t closed off from the rest of the world with thick curtains only when his partner was visiting. Jean wasn’t fond of place in general, all furniture covered in dust, old regrets emanating in every trinket that was lying around. Adding lack of any light to that was just plain miserable.  
So the only reason he was here was only to feel at least a bit closer to Harry, to try and numb the nagging feeling of being an asshole to him.  
By the time Monday came around, he made a compromise with himself to apologize and go through with the invitation. He’s a grown fucking man, he can handle being around the guy without sexually assaulting him like a horny teenager.  
Harry’s desk was empty in the morning. Doing his best not to panic, Jean decided to wait a bit since pretty much everyone in the 41st had those days when they were late and it wasn’t an immediate red flag.  
Carried away with paperwork, he glanced at the clock, frowning. An hour passed. Officers around him only shrugged and gave sympathetic looks when asked if they saw his partner.  
Anger and worry slowly building up, he stomped out of the precinct, ignoring pouring rain that mercilessly striked all over him and splashing water on every step. Issued uniform coat wasn’t a lot of help in a weather like this, but catching a cold was the least of Jean’s problems if his dumb attitude cost his friend a life.  
Tracing oh so familiar route he reached bleak, imposing building hidden in the shadows of motorway above the city. Only when he fled up the stairs and found himself in front of familiar door he took a second to breathe, glad that thanks to Harry their whole precinct was in shape fit enough to race across the whole Revachol without breaking a sweat.  
Banging on the door didn’t result in anything, only raising panic level even higher, but not that much since he had a spare key Harry gave to him long time ago for cases like this.  
Pretty much running inside the dim room, he came to a halt, insides freezing when he spotted hairy legs, peeking out of the dingy couch.  
Forcing himself to move forward, Jean walked around it to see man’s lying body heaving out a relieved sigh, noticing the way Harry’s chest was moving with steady breathing. Worry deflating steadily, satellite-officer huffed when he noticed lack of pants, eyes lingering for a bit on underwear and black stockings. He also still had work shirt on, stained with…  
Blinking, he looked over empty bottles and boxes surrounding the detective.  
Fucking drunkard, so this was a ruse after all.  
With a furious yell, Jean kicked the body, malevolently enjoying pained sounds this action produced.  
\- Wakey-wakey, you two-faced cunt, time to work at the shit factory!  
\- What are you doing?! – wheezing, Harry made panicked attempt to crawl away from him, stumbling over pile of trash, suddenly hissing and looking at the right hand.  
Following his gaze, Jean noticed fresh cut on it and shards of broken glass nearby. A bit of anger deflated, he sighed in exasperation and reached out, trying to help drunk detective to get up.  
\- Come on, you idiot. There’d better be a first aid kit in this shithole, I’m not going to buy you one.  
He would buy it. The gash didn’t seem that deep, but getting an infection was never a good thing.  
\- Um, sure… Whatever this all is…  
Ignoring barely coherent mumbling and doing his best to step around other bottles, Jean pretty much carried his partner to the kitchen table and rushed to the bathroom which thankfully had a sort-of intact kit. The whole room was also obviously ransacked for every pill possible, small packages lying everywhere, bobbing up and down in the bath filled with water.  
Refusing to let himself feel bad about any of this, he returned to the man who kept looking around, flinching the moment Jean sat on the other chair as if only just noticing him. Regret about his earlier outburst rising up, officer gloomily started patching up pale trembling hand.  
It didn’t take long for the silence to be interrupted by a cough.  
\- Hey, not to be ungrateful or anything, - detective spoke up, unease palpable in the hoarse, weak voice, - but… who are you and why are you helping me?  
When heavy stare fell on him, he immediately shrinked back into the seat.  
\- Who am i? Seriously? Is this really the time for your dumb philosophic discussions? Save it for when I do not feel like strangling you, shitkid.  
\- For what? I don’t even know you! – frightened, he tried to get back bandage-covered hand but it stayed in Jean’s firm grip.  
It was really challenging to hold back the urge and squeeze that hand even harder, breaking every bone in it. Ready to bark out everything satellite-officer thought about his idiot of a partner, he took a deep breath…  
\- Actually, there’s also… well… I don’t really know I am either? - awkward smile mixed with fear appeared on Harry’s face as he scratched back of his head with the healthy hand, fingers immediately tangled in greasy locks, - or what is this place even, so it might be better to explain why are you so angry before moving to strangulation part, maybe. Seems fair to me…  
Sceptical, Jean just stared at him, letting go of the hand and falling back onto the seat.  
\- You’re fucking kidding. You got amnesia?  
\- I think that’s what it’s called? – thoughtfully, detective tapped his chin, wincing at the pain, - fuck, why was there all this glass around me?  
\- That’s… a lot of questions, Harry, one at a time, please, - rubbing his face, Jean made an effort to keep raging panic at bay.  
\- Is ‘Harry’ my name?  
\- Yeah. Harrier Du Bois… Wait, no, - he stood up abruptly, knocking the chair over, - this is fucking stupid. You’re pulling a prank on me, aren’t you?  
\- That’s one convoluted prank because apparently I fooled myself as well, - mistrust in the voice, detective slowly stood up, backing away a bit, - you really don’t sound like someone… friendly, why are you here again?  
\- I ran here to help, you… oh, fuck me, no, no no no no this cannot be happening…  
Legs giving out, Jean fell onto his knees, breathing heavily. He did fuck up. He was a selfish asshole and this is the punishment. This was all his fault, all his…  
Gently, a hand touched his shoulder. Looking up, world blurry from… goddamnit, he can’t cry in front of Harry. Quickly brushing them off, he saw a soft smile on ruddy face.  
\- Look, judging by what I see around here, whatever happened was my fuckup. So if… if you don’t mind, let’s just calm down and cover the basics. It will have to eventually come back to me, right?  
The voice wavered, not really inspiring any confidence in Jean, but it was something to get him out of the darkness.  
\- Yeah, I have not heard about permanent memory loss now that I think about it… Unless you stuck your head into a pale, but I doubt that…  
\- Pale?  
\- Forget it, it’s not important right now, - cringing at his choice of words, officer suddenly jumped on his feet, almost causing Harry to fall over, - fuck, I should call the station, how long have I been here?!  
\- Sure, station, I know what that is…  
\- You! – Jean pointed at startled man who froze in the middle of standing up, - go and sit there, and don’t even try to drink anything, if there’s any alcohol left… Oh, and definitely no drugs!  
\- Drugs? – Harry hummed, swiftly getting slap in the face.  
\- You didn’t fucking hear me?!  
\- Okay, alright! – detective raised his hands in defeat, - i’ll just sit… over there, and won’t move a muscle, uh…  
\- My name is Jean, shitkid, - he grumbled, striding to the door.  
\- Um, cool, Jean… that’s one charming nickname I have…  
Feeling his face heating up, satellite-officer quickly ran out, concentrating on manufacture of his speech about Harry’s absence.

* * *

  
Leaving dizzy Harrier with an order to clean the place up at least enough to be able to move around without tripping on sticky bottles, Jean ran off back to the precinct. He really didn’t want to, but both of them skipping work would be a really bold move that he couldn’t afford, quite literally.  
 _\- I will come back after work and we’ll try to fix this… - he put both hands on Harry’s shoulders, shaking them to try and inspire confidence, - mangled brain of yours, alright? Until that happens, clean this giant garbage bin you call home and try to remember… I don’t know, anything. You know where we are, for example? The city?_  
 _Older man was about to shake his head, but shrinked under Jean’s intense gaze, trying to come up with something to tell him out of fear._  
 _\- It’s… Uh… Can I look out of the window? – he suddenly asked, gesturing to half-closed curtains._  
 _\- If that will help you, sure._  
 _Not really convinced that it will, officer let him go, watching with caution as Harrier swung it open, long dirty hair immediately fluttering in the cold wind. After several moments, he turned back with uncertain look._  
 _\- Is it… Revachol?_  
 _\- Yeah, you got it! – surprised, Jean couldn’t resist smiling back, quickly turning away to fake a cough, - I don’t think you’re pronouncing it right, though, it’s ‘re-va-chol’._  
 _\- Isn’t that what I said? – confused, Harrier touched his face, - did someone punch me in the jaw before I blacked out? Why does it feel so weird?_  
 _\- Oh, right, that damn thing… Look, I need to get back so write all these questions somewhere and we’ll go through them the moment I return._  
 _\- Cool, I won’t keep you here any longer then, I guess, - he mumbled._  
 _Picking up prepared trashbags, Harry turned to look at him again with a smile._  
 _\- Thank you for helping me out, Jean._  
 _\- Whatever, shitkid, - mumbling, the man walked out, closing metal door shut behind him and cursing himself for acting like an asshole even when his friend is at his lowest. He didn’t deserve that gratitude. None of this would have happened if he actually gave a shit about anyone but humself._  
Shaking his head to get out of horrible memories, Jean looked at Judit, who was still deep in thoughts. It seemed like she was shook even more than him by these events.  
\- Are you sure he will be fine… all alone there? Doesn’t he have stashes everywhere?  
\- He does. Good news is – either they are all empty by now, or he, well, forgot where they were, - chuckling, Jean met disapproving stare.  
\- This is not a laughing matter.  
\- I know it’s not, trust me. But I’ll go insane brooding over this for a whole day, - dropping heavy head on his hands, Jean let out a long sigh.  
\- Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset, - she patted his back awkwardly, - so, captain doesn’t know anything?  
\- Nah, I told him that Harry got a fever on weekends. Strange that he still believes me after all these years, honestly. Judy, - he grabbed her hands, pleading look in tired eyes meeting a compassionate one, - nobody can know about this. People already hate his guts, this moron is so fucking close to be thrown out of here and i… I don’t think he will take that well.  
\- Yeah, probably…  
\- Not probably, Judit, - he hissed, leaning in closer, - he will kill himself in some horrifying way and it will haunt me for the rest of this pathetic life so please, keep this one a secret.  
\- Jean, I get it. Don’t worry.  
\- It’s really hard not to.  
\- I know. But you will have to get in a better state of mind to help him, - with a weak smile, she reached for something in the drawer, whipping out a small container, - I got some two-days old pie here, should work as a breakfast for us, right?

* * *

  
Grabbing a bag that kept sliding off his shoulder, Jean knocked on the door, preparing himself for the worst. Harry could have easily defied his words and most likely snorted whatever he found adding cheap beer to it. Thankfully, the man that opened the door still seemed sober, albeit hangover.  
\- Okay, I know I only told you to clean up the rooms, but couldn’t you find a bit of time to do that to yourself as well? You stink so bad that I might as well hang a sign that says ‘contaminated’ on you.  
\- Are you always this grumpy? – ignoring his question, detective was following along with interest as Jean walked in, throwing his bag on a couch, - what’s in there?  
\- I am staying with you for the night. If we don’t fix this shit by the morning I will have a lot of explaining to do with Pryce, so I hope you’ve got all the essential questions written up, shitkid.  
\- Define ‘essential’. Also, no need to write anything, - Harrier tapped the side of his head smugly, - I remember all of them.  
\- Your memory works in funny fucking ways.  
\- Hey is this… staying over thing a norm for us? You’re not embarrassed or anything?  
Jean scoffed. The only one in the room who seemed embarrassed was Harry himself whose big hands kept fiddling with greasy hair nervously.  
\- Just go to the shower already, idiot, I need to change.  
Listening to the sound of running water he prepared some coffee and took out freshly cleaned tracksuit, happy for once that now he can protect his body from dreadful cold nights without fear of getting a jab that he still loves the guy who gave it to him.  
Sure he did, but that fact wasn’t necessary for amnesiac Harry to know. At least until Jean is sure that convenient methods of remembering your life didn’t work and he resorts to the secret weapon. That… wasn’t the only reason why he was so ready to jump at the chance of staying in Harry’s flat. Not at all.

Lost in his head, Jean almost dropped hot cup he held on the couch, startled when bathroom door opened with a loud slam.  
\- Oh fuck, I didn’t mean to do that, - apologetic look on his face and with fresh shirt and trousers on, Harry closed it with a ridiculous amount of care, walking up to the other man, - it’s okay if I sit this close, right?  
\- Shut up and come here already, - Jean mumbled without thinking, almost choking on a sip of disgusting liquid when he realized what happened.  
Harry did not though, falling onto a seat beside him, careful not to touch elbows.  
That hurt only a bit.

* * *

  
\- Who the fuck hired me as a police officer? – muttered still-pretty-amnesiac detective, hugging a pillow he found lying by the couch, - if all you said is true then I should be long out of job….  
\- You would be if not for me, - Jean settled himself a bit more comfortable as his explaining went along, leaning onto a back of the sofa with his side and staring at his partner, - well, that and you’re one hell of a detective. I’ve yet to meet anyone who is even half as efficient, we’d be up to our necks in cases if not for you. I think captain values you a lot, but if we walk in with your empty-head ass…  
\- He will fire me.  
\- That is a possibility, yeah. Probably cut my paycheck as well since I bullshited him about your condition today.  
\- Oh, - Harry buried his face in the pillow, muffled ‘I’m sorry’ reaching Jean’s ears.  
He sighed, snuggling into the jacket and yawning so wide that something popped in his jaw. How much coffee he drank today? Will he get a heart attack if he gets another one? This was going nowhere, so maybe it would be better to give up and go to sleep, leave It for Jean in the morning to figure that shit out.  
Of course he could have tried out the bit of info about Harry’s past he neglected to mention, but… was that really a good idea? To ruin his remnants of sanity all over again, to experience seeing how this happens?  
Shaking his head, Jean returned to reality, addressing the man re-emerged from the pillow.  
\- So, you still got nothing?  
\- I… No. It feels like there’s just blackness where my life used to be.  
\- Huh. I feel the same way even without memory loss.  
Harry turned to look at him with horror in hazy eyes.  
\- Did I ruin everything for you that badly?  
\- Nah, we ruined aaaall of it together, shitkid.  
Smiling grimly, he craned the neck to look to the window. There was no moon today, the whole sky was covered in heavy clouds, dreary buildings across the street barely illuminated only by small Frittte somewhere down there. Looking back, Jean blinked meeting Harry’s blatant stare.  
They sat like this for what felt like eternity not saying a word.  
A thought popped into officer’s head. He lost a sufficient amount of hope by now to say it out loud without worry.  
\- Harry.  
\- Hm?  
\- Maybe you don’t need to get them back.  
Detective’s half-lidded eyes went wide, he recoiled back into the couch armrest in almost comical way.  
\- What? You mean my memories? Why? I’m no use without them, I have to…  
\- Oh, shut up, - Jean snapped, with as much energy as he had in this old tired body, - you were horrible when you had all of that in your dumb head. Didn’t care about anyone but yourself, ignored everything people did to help you get over that goddamn trauma, ran away all the time, from work, me, life…  
No answer followed his rant. Stubborn to not look anywhere but on his legs, barely visible in darkness, exhausted man listened to sounds of breathing. Glass shattered somewhere in the street, followed by angry shouts.  
\- Is this why you’re hiding something from me? To prevent my old self coming back?  
His’s head snapped back. Sad, judging eyes stared in his being.  
Shrugging, Harry chuckled, looking away.  
\- Well, to be fair, if I was this much of a failure… Might be for the best that it all went away. For me, at least. But you… You look miserable.  
Jean huffed, trying to fuse with the couch.  
\- I feel fucking great, shitkid. My obnoxious junkie friend turned into a kind of average friend overnight, sounds like a dream come true, doesn’t it?  
\- But I don’t know you. You’re just… the first person I saw when I woke up.  
Satellite-officer laughed hoarsely, leaning forward and dragging his cheek across the back of the couch.  
\- Yeah. I am also the only person who gives enough fucks about you to check why you’re not on the workplace. Sounds friendly enough?  
\- Maybe you should stop with the bullshit and say who we really are to each other.  
Harry tried to back away from the other man’s face that was suddenly inches away from his, but there was nowhere to move.  
\- Oh, you really want to know? Or is it that case where you say anything that comes to this, - he tapped detective’s forehead, - just to see what happens?  
\- Look, you said it yourself, both of us will be deep in troubles if I go to the station in this condition, - desperately trying to break free from Jean pinning him from both sides, he made an attempt to jump off the couch when one of the hands retreated.  
But his body instantly froze in place when he felt heavy pressure on the groin.  
\- What…  
Jean was too tired to think. He just went along with the impulse, kissing chapped, dry lips, expecting to get shoved back.  
He didn’t expect Harry to reciprocate, hands circling around the back dragging him flush close, causing the man to fall on top of him. Jean pulled back, wincing and dragging his trapped hand out.  
\- Fucking hell, are you aiming to break every bone in my body?  
\- Uh, sorry, - disheveled detective took a hold of his hand, massaging it. Frowning, he looked at it, the mind only now catching up to what happened. – Oh. Oh no, I’m a…  
\- A faggot? – Jean smirked, enjoying the sight of embarrassed blush. Okay, this part of his experience with Harrier might have been worth of a repeat, - yeah, that’s the big reveal. We’re not just ‘partners’ on work. Happy you asked?  
\- It’s… strange. I still can’t remember shit, but my body acted like I want this, - moving his palms up Jean’s hands, he frowned, - no, no way I’m into guys, I found so much evidence that there’s been women in this place and all those manly books, you know? About that warrior who…  
Stupid babbling faded into high-pitched noise in officer’s head, his vision swimming. Women. Well that expands on what Harry does in those gaps of time when he disappears into nowhere, returning in the messiest state possible. As if it was not dumb to hope that this asshole can be a faithful lover.  
Soft touch on his hands didn’t feel as pleasant anymore. Rage bubbling up, they shot up to grab the fat neck, barely holding back from pressing as hard as possible. Frightened eyes drilled into his soul, Harrier clawing fruitlessly to break free.  
\- Of course you’re not into men, you piece of shit, - hissing, he leaned in, feeling labored breath on his face, - all you ever cared about was that fucking slut who ditched you the moment she found someone rich, why can’t just you just face that?! Why do you think you can get her back? Dora this, Dora that, can’t you pay attention to me for once? Do I have to compete with your ex for the rest of my fucking life?!  
Grip on his wrists weakened, Harry’s eyes glazing over. Fear of accidentally killing the man flashed in Jean’s mind.  
He couldn’t think of anything better other than pushing his partner in the opposite direction, which happened to be the floor. Heavy body fell with a loud thud, man gasping desperately for air.  
Trying not to listen to sounds of violent cough, he ran off to the dark bedroom, legs giving out somewhere in the middle of it. Something clanked near his fallen hands. Picking up a small bottle, he stared blankly at it for some time, barely noticing how a figure sat by him on the floor.  
\- You missed one, - absentmindedly said Jean. Flicking it into the wall, he followed bottle’s trajectory until it reached intended destination, bouncing somewhere to the dark corner.  
Harry managed to get at least one syllable out before falling back into the coughing fit, pretty much falling over on his partner’s side. Swinging an arm around him, Jean leaned in, not entirely sure if shudders vibrating through his body were the ones going from the other man.  
A bit tired of looking at the wall, he turned to the detective, expecting to see him staring back as he always did. But Harry’s gaze was aimed somewhere down, hands trembling as they carefully touched bruised neck. Noticing how white bandage on the cut loosened, officer slowly lifted his fingers, blood glistening in pale light.  
\- I can leave, - almost inaudibly said Jean, voice huskier than usual, pain throbbing on every word, - I shouldn’t have… I don’t know what came over me, fuck…  
\- Pretty sure I deserved it, - finally speaking up, though noticeably struggling, Harry chuckled, - this was… interesting, actually. I might have discovered something new for my fetish list…  
\- What, you haven’t tried to hang yourself before? - face twisting at realization of what he just said, Jean sighed, getting up, - I’m so sorry, I should go…  
\- And you say I’m the one running away.  
Halfway out of the room he groaned and strode back, hands clutched in tight fists.  
\- So what, you want me to stay? Why?! I fucked up on every possible level! We didn’t get your memories back, I almost fucking killed you, how can…  
When Harry looked up at him, smiling, angry speech got stuck somewhere in sore throat.  
\- You’re still wearing it. I thought you threw it away.  
Dumbstruck, Jean looked down on himself. Very slowly, he returned his stare to the smug man, who got up and walked closer to him.  
\- No fucking way. Harry, if you were playing a joke on me this whole time, I will strangle you for real.  
\- I wish. Though i also wish I didn’t remember all of… that.  
\- Why did this happen anyway? Was it me trying to murder you or…  
\- That’s… difficult to guess, you kind of did that and mentioned her at the same time. Maybe it was both? - melancholy cast a shadow on his features, hands moving to fix crooked jacket, - fits you even better than before, you hunk of a man. How do you even stand being around slob like me?  
\- Take a good hard look at me in this shitty thing, because I’m burning it down the moment I find a garbage bin, - hissed Jean, shaking grabby hands off himself and taking a step back, - I really hope you plan on telling me why the fuck I found you today in this state, don’t even think about touching me until that happens.  
Falling silent, Harry sat on the edge of shabby bed, the only sign of him being nervous are fingers twisting together. When nothing happened for several moments, Jean sighed with irritation, walking out of the room. There had to be untouched alcohol somewhere in this place, he didn’t manage to find all secret stashes in the past years but he needed to check at least ones he knew about.  
With silent cheering, he finally fished out a couple of small bottles from under the couch. They were literally sitting on it the whole time. He didn’t have enough care to think if it was swept in there intentionally, making his way back to sulking partner.  
\- Here, - he threw one of them to Harry, who almost dropped it on the floor, looking incredulously at him.  
\- You sure? Aren’t you always against me drinking?  
\- Who the fuck cares, - mumbled Jean, taking a swig. Intensifying ache in his chest became a customary thing at this point.  
After a prolong pause, Harry followed suit.  
Waiting until they both finish drinking, Jean snatched both bottles sending them to fly out of the room. Turning back to his partner as the sound of both of them shattering shook the air, he poked him painfully in the chest.  
\- Talk. Now.  
\- Not a lot to talk about. I tried to forget her. To forget everything, if that’s what it takes. What you said back then… it was a long shot, but worth trying. So I gathered all the alcohol and drugs I had in here, and, well…  
\- What? - Jean blinked, taken aback, - this was your plan? To drink yourself into amnesia? What’s the fucking point of that?  
\- You said it yourself. I need to move on. If she will drag me down until I succumb and die…  
\- Not like this, you idiot! – he grabbed startled Harry by sagged shoulders, shaking him in desperation, - didn’t it occur to you how other people might feel if your whole life will be erased with those memories?! Everyone you ever knew aside from Dora, people who care about your sorry ass? Me, for fucks sake?!  
\- What’s the point of knowing this world if all I do is bring ruin to everything around me? - pained grin plastered itself on detective’s freshly reddened face, - besides, if I’m not mistaken, you liked it when I had no idea who I was.  
\- That… - he inhaled sharply, no reasonable argument for retort in his head, - I wasn’t thinking clearly, I didn’t mean it!  
\- I know that you suffer from our relationships, Vic, just leave me be. I can try to wipe the slate clean, become a better man for everyone, for this city. Please.  
Shaking hands clutched to Harry, afraid that he might disappear the moment he lets go. He dropped his head on warm chest, immediately engulfed into embrace.  
\- No… There has to be some other way, you can’t do this to me…  
\- You know how long it was since she left. It won’t get any better, - his partner answered in hushed voice, big hands drawing circles on his back, - your life will get better with me being out of it, you won’t even remember that I existed after a while…  
\- You think I’m like her? – he pushed back, staring at Harry angrily, sorrow and fury fighting inside, - that I won’t give a shit if someone I love disappears one day? Who the fuck do you take me for?! This isn’t how life works, you can’t just quit and hope that nobody will notice!  
\- I don’t know, Vic, - the man craned his neck, yellow teeth flashing in a smirk, - I think I can. I almost did. What, you’re ready to watch over me until we both die? What bright ideas you have on stopping me, huh?  
Snarling in rage, Jean pushed him onto the bed, swiftly climbing on top of him and pining both hands with vicious force. Hated grin didn’t went anywhere, ruffled man looking at him with the same level of interest as if he was a curious case of a corpse ending up in the most unfortunate pose for policemen to joke about it.  
\- I’ll fucking show you, Harry, - breath hitched in detective’s throat when he felt a knee pressing between his legs, both hands contorting in pain from added pressure, - you wouldn’t dare to run away from something like this…  
\- We’ll see about th…  
Unnerving laughter was quickly drowned under Jean’s dry lips, cheap beer on their breath. Harrier’s body arched upwards, broad chest pulsating against his, too many layers of clothing in the way to get all the pleasure from the sensation.  
An abrupt, aggressive kick in the groin almost threw Jean off balance, thin leg not retreating and digging in venomously. Anger and lust overflowed every last bit of sanity. Nails breaking skin in Harry’s wrists, he was just about to return the favor but stinging pain on the tongue made him jump back with agonizing cry, hands releasing their prey and flying up to cover injured mouth. Husky cackling stabbed his ears. Looking up, he stared with fiery hate as other man wiped blood from his face, frowning in confusion as if only just noticing that his hands were already stained with red. Discarding of the useless bandage, he glared at Jean challengingly.  
Well, it wouldn’t be the first time they had this kind of sex. He can work with that.  
\- So you want to play it rough today, - rasping, Jean ripped zipper on his jacket down, impatiently shrugging it off and swinging to throw it to the side. Harry’s gaze started sliding as if he already saw it flying, which made it extra easy to launch it in his face instead at the last second.  
\- Aw, come on! This is cheating!  
Not paying attention to his whining, Vicquemare climbed back on top of his partner, indiffirentely pushing soft jacket aside to reveal pouty face. It would be cute if not for red streaks on it that made him look more like a maniac.  
\- I’ve had enough shit with you for today, - Jean’s trembling hands went to pop annoyingly tiny buttons on messed up shirt, - just let me have it before I start feeling like a rapist here…  
\- You kind of act like one right now, - Harry paused when dark eyes stared into him, shrugging dismissively, - not that I would know, at least from what I can remember…  
\- What, you want me to stop? – his fingers were touching half-open fly on garish pants, not really anticipating rejection.  
\- You kidding me, after prelude like this?  
As large palms unexpectedly grabbed his ass, Jean exhaled sharply, leaning into the hungry kiss while his sweatpants were dragged off him, hands promptly shoved under boxer’s fabric. Annoyance flared in him, feeling as calloused fingers came dangerously close to his entrance. Squeezing Harry’s thick shaft he relished in the deep grunt this action produced, pulling away to whisper in man’s ear, mutton chops tickling his face.  
\- Don’t even think about it, shitkid.  
\- Oh, I love a man with authority…  
Jean really wanted to wipe that fucking smirk off Harry’s face, so he didn’t think much before biting exposed neck, heavy musk overwhelming all senses.  
All he wanted right now was to bury himself in his beloved until pale disintegrates them both into nothing.  
\- Ah, fuck… - he felt the other man wince, reluctantly succumbing to the attack, - you really don’t want to give me a break there today, do you?  
\- I’ll break it alright, if you keep up with this whining.  
Grudgingly parting with the tender skin, he pressed a small kiss and stood up, dragging oppressive sweat-stained shirt off and towering over Harrier who was lazily playing with himself while taking off cheap white underwear. Admiring the way half-lidded eyes gazed at him, savoring the view. A glint of jealousy sparked in them, probably recalling the way detective used to look before hitting the bottle.  
It was quickly replaced by worry when he noticed Jean coating his fingers in saliva, staring intensely at provoked reaction.  
\- Vic, I have lube, you know…  
\- I’m sure you do, - spite seeping through the words, he dug fingers in Harry’s hip, wetted hand going straight to the hole. Both actions producing pretty much the same amount of hurt, emotions apparent on man’s face, - Why the fuck do you think you deserve it?  
\- You can’t just…  
Words flowed into shallow gasps when Jean pushed fingers ever so slightly, but enough to cause pain.  
\- What can’t I do? Please, do tell, I really wanted to continue where we left off, - bending forward, he stared straight into fearful eyes.  
Harry looked away, mumbling something.  
\- I can’t hear you, shitkid, speak the fuck up.  
\- I… I won’t do that again, alright? I won’t drink again… - he paused, contemplating, - … in amounts like these.  
\- Thanks for clarifying that, - snorting, Jean retreated the hand a bit, starting to feel bad about this whole act, - you want to at least look at me while you’re at the bullshit spree?  
\- I’m not lying! - jerking his head back to glare at him, Harry pursed his lips, resembling an angry teenager, - I can’t predict if I will have an impulse to repeat it, what do you want me to do?!  
\- Harrier, - he leaned in, dragging went hands across man’s face, feeling him shudder, - you’re threading on a thin fucking ice. I won’t run away like that bitch did, but I’ll make your life as much of a nightmare as it is for me with your stunts. Got it?  
\- Y-yeah…  
\- Spectacular. Now, - moving to the night table and hastily getting out small bottle, he sat looking from above, - what do you want me to do to you, huh?  
\- You have to punish me, Jean, - he purred, doing some parody of seductive pose, disturbingly not a trace of previous distress.  
\- Well, shit, you’ll have to be more specific, should I cut your pay or…  
\- Oh, for… Just fuck me already!  
\- Oooooh, that, right, - rolling his eyes dramatically and barely resisting the urge to break into the laugh at his partner’s exasperated huffing, Jean flicked a generous amount of cold substance and mercifully moved his hand between slim shuddering legs.  
For a while room was completely silent, save for hushed panting. Pumping slick fingers on Jean’s cock, Harry was softly kissing parted lips, glad that for once his partner seemed to be at peace.  
Eyes closed, lost in the blissful moment, Jean moved his fingers in and out as gently as he could, trying to make up for the earlier fit of violence. All his threats were as empty as his soul. There was no way for him to know how he would act in the future either. He might leave this cursed city behind, give up on salvaging what was rotten from the beginning if another case of ‘drinking himself into oblivion’ would happen and there would be no way to restore it this time. He might simply shoot Harrier and then himself. Anything might happen, really.  
So it’s better to concentrate on what’s in front of him for now.  
Slightly turning fingers upwards he smirked when Harry arched into the touch, hot chest pressing flush against his own, sharp gasp escaping dry throat.  
\- F-fuck… Now… Please…  
Way too tired to make him beg even more, Jean moved back, angling his hips. Pushing into the twitching entrance he exhaled sharply, burying himself deep inside and almost collapsing on the other man. At the sound of strained breathing, he looked up to see signs of discomfort on Harry’s face, who quickly smiled the moment he noticed.  
\- Sorry…  
\- It’s fine, just… Keep going…  
Moving as delicately as he could, Jean’s hand slid down to palm pulsating man’s hardness trapped between their bodies, the other falling to have some sort of leverage as he stared into those eyes. Drained of bright glint, full of misery that refused to disappear all these years.  
\- Harder…Hg…  
\- Get me a coffee if you want it harder, - grumbled Jean, sinking his face in hairy chest and inhaling deeply, - goddamn this is good… should have done this days ago… would fuck you into being sober…  
\- What? – short genuine laughter washed over him soothingly, before slipping into shameless moaning, hands digging into short hair and pulling into sloppy kiss.  
It didn’t take long for them to pick up the pace, Harry clutching his partner in desperate embrace, both men barely able to do anything but breathe heavily against each other.  
\- M-my neck…  
\- What? – Jean hazily looked down on it.  
\- Grip it… please…  
Hesitantly moving a hand from Harry’s cock, wet and slippery, he put it on the desired destination pressing down slightly.  
\- Oh, this is… weird… - rasping, detective raised his palm to cup Jean’s face, - you really could have… killed me back there, you know?  
\- Wouldn’t you want that, - he muttered, twisting fingers into the compliant flesh, earning lustful moan.  
\- I think being murdered by you… would be the best way to go.  
Shaking his head, Jean let go and grabbed man’s hand, pinning it down.  
\- Dream on, Harry. I love you too much to do this.  
Shutting him up with the kiss before they said even more dumb suicidally-romantic stuff, he thrust harder with every last bit of strength left in exhausted body, sounds of pleasure resonating through him as climax devoured them both.

* * *

He blinked, barely staying awake and adjusting his grip on other man’s shoulders. Beside him Harry was lazily tracing lines on the buff chest.  
\- You should go to shower.  
- _You_ should go to shower.  
Neither of them moved. Someone’s carriage drove past the house, headlight illuminating dim room briefly.  
\- You were lying about it, didn’t you? – Jean’s husky, sleepy voice tore through the deafening stillness.  
\- Yeah.  
\- Gonna try that again?  
\- Probably. Don’t know when.  
\- You really don’t care about anyone. Can’t believe I fell for this shit…  
\- I’m doing this because I care… - low voice going even lower, yawn interrupting rest of the sentence.  
\- Go to sleep already, bother Jean from tomorrow…  
\- Jean from tomorrow won’t be so soft…  
\- Shut up. I’m not soft.  
After a moment, he pressed a kiss to Harry’s forehead, snuggling against warm body.  
\- You are.  
\- Yeah, maybe. You’d know…  
Silence descended onto the dirty, gloomy flat, only quiet snoring being a sign of life in this place.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay i swear to god i didn't plan to write so much on this tiny idea, nor end it with something so cruel and lewd but it happened so i hope this was right up the alley for rare people of this fandom who are into both this pairing and unnecesary violence. Many thanks to desushoard for moral support through the night when i was falling asleep writing all this hogwash. Make love not hate and stuff.


End file.
